Title: Wildcard: Volume One
Series: Wildcard #1
Series: Wildcard #1
Author: Missy Johnson
Release Date: September 4, 2014
246.
That's the number
of women I've shagged in the last twelve months.
I'm Ryder Stevens.
Don't pretend you
don't know me. I'm a god.
I'm hot, I'm
British and I take what I want. I'm also the number one ranked tennis player in
the world. But it's my off court antics that gain the most attention. I cruise
through life, running from one scandal to the next. Hell I can't even take a
piss without the world knowing about it.
Rules? Who gives a
shit?
Rules are there to
be broken and I'm the king of breaking them.
But even the king
can be bought to his knees. I'm sidelined with an injury that changes
everything.
Maybe my life isn't
so perfect after all...
ONLY 99c
“Ryder, you’re becoming more well-known for your
behaviour off court than your actual career. Do you have anything to comment on that?”
I
raise my eyebrows at the reporter. Flashes from cameras are going
off everywhere, as you’d expect in a post-match
press conference—especially for a
game I’d been very lucky to win.
“Not
sure what you mean there, Stan,” I say, reading his nametag. It’s
been less than two minutes, and I’m already sick
of where this is going. “I came
here to play tennis—that’s it. It’s a damn shame that reporters like yourself having nothing better to do
than focus on what I do in my
private time.”
“But
is it private time when you’re out until three a.m. the night before a big match?” he persists.
I
shrug, and wipe my mouth in an attempt to hide my smirk. “Players
prepare for matches in different ways. I’m sure
for some a good night’s sleep does
the trick, but for me, I’ll take an evening of rough and sweaty sex over a quiet night any day of the
week.” I ignore the glare of my
manager, Matt, and nod at the next reporter.
“Ryder,
do you think your pre-match actions showed disrespect for your opponent today?”
“How?”
I fire back. “I treated the build-up to this match just the same as I would if I were playing Nadal or Federer.
You all seem to want to focus on
my life outside of the court. Does anyone here have any questions about my actual tennis?”
I
cross my arms over my chest as Matt bows his head and sighs. A murmur rises through the crowd before someone puts
their hand up. I nod, my eyes
locking onto hers. She’s a pretty little thing with long, dark hair and stunning blue eyes. I can tell she’s
feisty, and I find myself wondering
if that attitude carries over into the bedroom.
“You
play the number two ranked player in the world tomorrow, and your
fellow countryman, Jason Dillard. Will you be
having an early night tonight?”
she asks. Her full, red lips curve into a grin, and I can feel myself harden.
I
shift in my seat and lean forward, resting my elbows on the table in
front of me. “Well, that depends.” I smirk.
“On
what?”
“On
whether or not you’ll give me your phone number.”
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